


To Taste Temptation

by Fallen_Night_Angel005



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Incest, Jorrvaskr, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Stand Alone, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Twincest, Twins, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Night_Angel005/pseuds/Fallen_Night_Angel005
Summary: When Vilkas and Farkas stumble upon their secret desires they are left with a choice. Do they walk away from temptation, or do they risk everything to indulge in the forbidden?





	1. Truth Laid Bare

**Author's Note:**

> None of the other Vilkas/Farkas scenarios were to my taste so I wrote my own. This is my first smutty fanfic that I've ever written and the first time I've ever posted any of my work. Please don't judge too hard.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vilkas and Farkas stumble upon their secret desires they are left with a choice. Do they walk away from temptation, or do they risk everything for a night of bliss?

     Jorrvaskr was full of laughter and mirth. The Companions sang and shouted while they consumed their mead and ale. Even Kodlak Whitemane had joined the feast, and his booming laugh echoed throughout the hall. Only one wolf was missing. Vilkas had retired early, for he had grown bored of the celebrations. He was glad for their most recent victory over the Silver Hand, but he did not feel it was worth a feast. So instead he went alone down to the belly of Jorrvaskr where he swung his door shut and peeled off his armor. Once he had gotten the last piece free, he stripped down completely and plopped himself onto his bed happy to be alone. He enjoyed the solitude.

     As he lay sprawled on his bed, his hands began to wonder. The soft furs caressed his back while his fingers ran themselves along his chest and stomach. His right hand found his swelling cock and gingerly began to tease it. He lightly ran his fingertips along his length while a half dozen fantasies floated through his mind. None of them were satisfying at the moment. He thought of Maledi, the last woman he had bedded. His manhood wilted a little at the thought of her. Woman were all well and good, but most were too delicate for his taste. Her even more so. The wolf tried and failed to think of a good woman before he was forced to admit that he was yearning for a man. He had experimented some when he was a whelp, but had only ever had one true encounter with another lad. A young hunter named Gunjar.

     Though Vilkas had enjoyed his time with the lad the memories weren’t as enticing as he had hoped. They had both been young and shy. Their roll in the sheets had been gentle, tender even. Gunjar had been lanky and thin similar to Vilkas at that age. They were fond memories, but he had no desire for young men. Vilkas wanted more. He wanted a real man who wasn’t afraid to be rough. A man who would throw his weight around and wasn’t afraid to leave bruises. A fighter. A warrior like himself. _Or Farkas_. The wolf started at the thought freeing his cock from his grip. He swore to himself. It wasn’t the first time his brother had invaded his thoughts. Farkas was tall with the heavy broad build that Vilkas had always wanted. He thought about how his brother looked in battle. The intensity with which he fought. The ferocity behind every swing of his giant two-handed sword. Vilkas pictured his brother training outback. His brows scrunched in concentration, and his silver eyes focused and deadly. His shirt off, and sweat running down his broad back and chest. His muscles pulling and bulging with each swing of his sword. Vilkas’ cock sprang back to life, and he swore again.

     He tried to pretend that he hated it. He knew he should probably take a cold bath, and leave these despicable thoughts locked away and ignored. It’s what he always did when he thought of his brother. However, now that he was completely alone in the sleeping quarters, he felt braver than normal. He didn’t want to keep lying to himself. He yearned for his brother. His aching manhood proved it. Vilkas guiltily returned his hand to his swollen member while his other went back to exploring his body. Alone and safe in his room, he finally allowed these forbidden thoughts to play out in his head. He imagined his hand was his brothers. It would be just as calloused and strong. He gripped his cock harder and started rubbing with vigor. A moan slipped passed his lips. A sound broke through his fantasy.

     The wolf froze cock still in hand. He wasn’t sure what he had just heard. A knock? A door closing? Something falling off a table perhaps? There was a loud thud above, followed by muted shouts. Vilkas rolled his eyes. No doubt is was Athis and Njada fighting again while the rest goaded them on. There was another thump and more cheering. Skjor and Aela would be betting on the victor. Farkas would be taunting and throwing insults. At least the wolf knew he wouldn’t be disturbed. He went back to his administrations. He had seen Farkas naked so many times in his life that the image easily returned. He wondered what kind of kisser his brother was, and what he would taste like. He imagined Farkas pressing him down with his powerful hands and nibbling on his throat. The wolf’s own hands caressing every inch of his twin.

     “Oh gods.” He whispered while he fucked his hand ruthlessly. His other hand had been gripping his ass cheek, but now it was inching farther down. Vilkas rolled to his side drawing a knee toward his chest. His fingers eagerly rubbed his entrance. He teased himself, drawing out another moan, before slipping a finger inside. One quickly became two. He worked himself for a bit, and then added a third. He groaned. “Fuck yes.”

     The position was a little awkward, but he didn’t care. He pretended it was Farkas. Wished it was his brother’s cock inside him, and not his own damned fingers. Still, he could feel himself peeking as his brother’s image urged him on. “Oh, fuck me!” He swore none to quietly. A soft moan replied from the other side of his door.

     “Ahhhhh!” Vilkas squealed immediately popping his fingers free and releasing his manhood. His silver eyes locked on to the now obvious cracked open door and the shadow just outside it. The shadow bolted, but Vilkas was faster. He ripped open his door and saw his brother’s giant back fly into the room across the hall before the door slammed shut. “Farkas?” Vilkas blurted, his voice both horrified and disbelieving. _Farkas was just…_ ……

     The wolf stood there gasping for air while his mind raced. After a moment’s hesitation he grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around his waist, crossed the hall, and scrambled inside Farkas’ room. Vilkas took it all in at once. Farkas was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. His eyes downcast. His face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Farkas’ trousers were open and not quiet pulled up all the way. His manhood had been hastily shoved back inside. “You were watching me?” Vilkas said dumbfounded. His mind was running in circles. He couldn’t grasp what he had just seen.

     Farkas jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. He looked up at Vilkas. His eyes wide with fear and horror. “Vilkas!” He sputtered, his breathing just as fast and erratic as the wolf’s. “I um…...I was looking for you and……… umm….” He trailed off as his face somehow grew even redder. He dropped his head back down into his hands in shame. His long thick fingers dug into his dark locks. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. Vilkas noticed the hair on Farkas’ arms were standing on end.

     Vilkas took a few hesitant steps toward his brother. Farkas was rightly horrified and afraid, but the wolf was simply bewildered. His brother didn’t know what he did. That they had both been masturbating to each other. In all of his wildest imaginings, he had never expected his brother would share his feelings. He had never held hope that Farkas would want him. The wolf didn’t know what to do with this realization, but the sight of his brother practically shaking with fear broke his heart.

    “It’s ok.” He said soothingly.

     He saw Farkas flinch, his eyes blinking wildly as his mind tried to comprehend what he had just heard. Vilkas knew his brother wasn’t dumb like everyone said he was. He simply wasn’t good with words, and he didn’t always understand people. Farkas hesitantly looked up at Vilkas palms still pressed into the sides of this forehead. His deep voice infused with confusion. “You’re not mad?”

     Vilkas knew he should have been, but he couldn’t be mad at his brother when he shared the same sin. He took a few more steps so he was standing right before his twin. He gently pulled one of Farkas’ hands away so he could see him better. He was suddenly well aware of just how close his cock was to his brother's face. It bobbed beneath the blanket, and he prayed that Farkas didn’t notice.

     “No, I’m not mad.” He said. Vilkas could see his brother growing more confused. Vilkas had always had a quick temper. One that had grown wilder after he gained his wolfblood. He needed to tell Farkas. He had a right to know. His throat was suddenly dry. “Farkas I was…...” The wolf swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a defeated sigh. His shoulders drooped. He dropped his brother’s hand and stepped back. It was his turn to look away. “I was thinking of you.” He breathed the words out so quietly that he didn’t expect Farkas to hear. The weight that enshrouded him was crushing. It felt way too hot in the room. He needed to escape. “Goodnight.” He muttered and started to turn away.

     Farkas sprang forth from the bed. He grabbed Vilkas by the elbows so tight that the wolf thought they might break. His brother pushed him backward making him stumble until his back slammed into the door. He grunted, but it was cut off as his brother’s lips crashed into his own. The kiss was rough and full of pent up wanting. Vilkas let go of the blanket and clutched his brother’s shirt afraid that he might pull away. Afraid that this might be a delusion if not for the feel of his brother’s hips beneath the cloth. His blanket crumpled to the floor and Farkas pressed himself up against Vilkas’ nude body. His brother was a hand taller and heavier built than Vilkas, and Farkas used that to his advantage. His twin leaned on him effectively trapping him. It only made the wolf yearn for more. Farkas pressed his tongue against his brother’s lips greedily demanding more. Vilkas was more than willing to oblige parting his lips and deepening the kiss. He savored every sensation of his brother’s dry cracked lips on his. Their soft warm tongues gliding around each other. He wanted to touch his brother. He wanted to run his hands along his back and clutch at his shoulders, but he couldn’t. Farkas’ fingers were like a wolf’s jaws around his elbows. He was completely under his brother’s control, and it sent a thrill down his spine and up his throbbing cock. He was keenly aware of Farkas’ own hard member pressed against his belly only separated by his loose trousers. Farkas released his brothers lips to nip and suck on his jaw and neck. Vilkas panted and groaned. When his brother made his way to his pulse a shiver ran through the wolf.

     “Brother, stop.” He wheezed. He didn’t want Farkas to stop, but he couldn’t allow his brother to go down such a prohibited road. Farkas paused as if he wasn’t sure what he had just heard. His silver eyes locked on to his and they flashed with lust. Farkas looked at Vilkas like he was an untouched feast waiting to be devoured. Vilkas felt like he was. A feast he desperately wanted Farkas to indulge in. The wolf watched as those hungry eyes turned back to confusion. He steeled himself and said. “We can’t. We can’t do this.”

     Farkas let go of his brother’s arms, but he stayed pressed up against him. His deep voice resonated through Vilkas’ chest. "Why?"

     “We’re brothers Farkas. Twins! It’s wrong in so many ways. And if anyone heard us, we would be booted out of the companions. Out of Whiterun. We would lose everything. I can’t risk you going through that.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t hide his desire or his remorse. For the first time in his life he wished that they were only shield brothers so they could be together without fear.

     “But you want this, and I do too.” Farkas said pleading and stroking his arms. “Let me please you.”

     Vilkas growled. “Don’t argue Farkas. We can’t. It’s wrong.”

     “Says who?”

     “Everyone ice brains!” Vilkas regretted the insult as soon as it left his lips, but his frustration mixed with his desire were making him angry. “Men. Elves. All of Nirn and the gods to boot!”

     Farkas glared at his brother. He kissed Vilkas again and bit his lower lip. “I don’t care. Damn them all.”

     Vilkas was surprised by his normally shy brother’s boldness. He wasn’t sure if Farkas really understood the danger they could face, but he relented none the less. Quiet frankly he was tired of fighting his desires. Tired of hiding his want every day of every year. Tired of pretending that he didn’t want his brother to fuck him like a rampant troll. Had they not deserved a moment of happiness? _Fuck it! Were already damned to Oblivion_.

     He gave Farkas a wicked smile and rewarded him with a passionate kiss. He gave in to his inner most desire. This cardinal sin. Their passion turned to desperation as they explored each other. Vilkas struggled with the ties on his brother’s shirt and resorted to yanking them apart. He tore the shirt apart in his haste to touch Farkas’ skin. His brother nibbled again at his throat drawing a moan from Vilkas. The wolf ran his fingers through his brother’s long hair before grabbing a fist full of it and pulled. Farkas merely grunted and continued his trail of kisses. He ran his lips over Vilkas’ collarbone his stubble scratching across his chest. Down his brother went kissing his chest and stopping to suck on a nipple. Vilkas watched his brother with heavy lids and an ever growing want. Farkas slid onto his knees kissing all the way down the wolf’s abs. His brother ran his tongue along the V of his hip bones. He shivered with anticipation and pleasure. Farkas wrapped his large hand around his brother’s length and ever so gently kissed his tip. Vilkas swore. His cock was so hard it ached. He wanted this so bad that his tip was dribbling. Farkas smiled up at Vilkas triumphantly. His silver eyes dancing and GLOATING as he reveled in the power he had over his twin. Farkas ever so slowly drew the full length of him into his mouth drawing a long moan from Vilkas.His teasing turned into a steady rhythm as he sucked Vilkas’ cock. The wolf clutched at his brother’s skull as his twin extracted every last curse and moan from him. He felt his brother’s fingers find his center.

     “Oh Farkas” He whimpered. His brother moaned at the sound of his name. The wolf couldn’t take it anymore. His brothers soft tongue running up and down his shaft. His fingers thrusting in his core. It felt so good. And it wasn’t enough. He bucked, thrusting his cock down Farkas’ warm throat. His brother gagged unable to take all of his length. “Gods Farkas, your throat feels so good. You like sucking my cock, don’t you?”

     Farkas responded with another moan. Vilkas noticed that his brother had freed his own cock and was stroking himself.

     “Fuck!” Vilkas growled between clenched jaws as his thrusts became more erratic. He could no longer control himself as he came close to peeking. He was at the mercy of his long pent up desires, and he violently fucked his brother’s throat. Farkas let his jaw go slack and took as much as he could while still fingering Vilkas’ ass. With a final thrust the wolf shot his load down his twin’s throat. His brother gagged but swallowed all of Vilkas’ seed. Vilkas hissed and whimpered through his panting as his brother milked him dry.

     The wolf noticed that his fingernails were digging into Farkas skull enough to make it bleed. He felt suddenly bashful and released his brother’s head. His fingers were cramped from holding that grip. “Sorry Farkas. I don’t know what came over me.”

     Farkas chuckled stepping up from the ground. His whole face swam with ecstasy. “Nothing’s came on you yet.”

     His brother pulled him away from the door and kissed him deeply. Vilkas returned it greedily. He ran his hand along his brother’s stomach, and then grabbed his rigid cock. He was happy to note that his brother was not as long or girthy as he. It pleased him immensely to finally be bigger than his brother in some way. The wolf nibbled on his brother’s ear and then down his neck. He bit Farkas’ shoulder and played with his cock timidly. Farkas gave a pleasured growl while his hands ran along Vilkas’ tight ass. Vilkas knelt down to give Farkas his own release, but his brother had other ideas.

     Farkas snarled something fierce and wild and threw Vilkas to the floor. He yelped with surprise. His twin was already behind him lapping at his center with his tongue. His fingers exploring deeper. He felt Farkas stop and spread his cheeks. It was the only warning he had before his brother hilted himself.

     “Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh!” Vilkas shouted. Farkas hadn’t even come close to working him open, and it had been years since his encounter with Gunjar. He was far from prepared for the impaling he just received. Farkas didn’t notice. He was too far gone in his want and lust. He pulled mostly out and slammed in again with a grunt. His fingers dug into his hips, and all Vilkas could do was endure his brother’s desperation for release.

     “You’re so tight.” Farkas sputtered the words without thought as he pounded Vilkas hard. Farkas leaned over him trying to go deeper and pressed a hand into his shoulder blades. Vilkas’ face rubbed against the rug, and he bit his knuckle to suppress a wail. Farkas was too pent up with need to last very long. His thrusts were ruthless and Vilkas feared he would be pounded through the floor. That wasn’t to say he was without enjoyment. He had wanted a real man, and Farkas was more than willing to provide. He was a dominating lover. His normal shyness wiped away by his demand for satisfaction. If Vilkas hadn’t just come he knew he would have already orgasmed from the way Farkas submitted him. His brother pressed and rubbed against his walls, and he could feel the heat from his brothers cock as it drew along his entrance. It left Vilkas in a state of euphoria, and he urged his brother on.

     “Fuck me Farkas!” The wolf begged.

     “Vilkas!” Farkas rumbled and came with several hard thrusts. His twin shot his seed deep inside him. His hole pulsed in rhythm with his brother’s cock. Farkas sank to the floor pushing him the rest of the way down. They curled up on the floor together his brother’s deflating member still in his ass.

     Vilkas knew he should be horrified by what they had just done, but he wasn’t. He was content. Happy to be in his brother’s warm embrace. Farkas nuzzled his shoulder fondly and occasionally planted a kiss. It was a while before either one of them spoke.

     “Vilkas?” Farkas asked. “We can’t do this again, can we?”

     The wolf sighed. “No brother. We better not. You can never breath a word of this to anyone. Not even me. You understand?”

     He could feel Farkas nod his head. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”

     Above them the revelry continued on. The rest of the Companions oblivious to the atrocity that took place below them. For the first time since he became a werewolf, Vilkas felt happy. In the safety of his brother’s room, tucked into his brother’s tight embrace, he was content. To his surprise the wolf within him was finally quiet. For a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 5/15/19  
> Changed a couple sentences so they flowed better, and edited a lot of grammar errors.  
> I have a couple scenarios for the brothers that I can't get out of my head along with a tiny plot line to tie them all together. So since the twins are holding my mind hostage I will be adding another chapter in the near future.


	2. Turmoil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Vilkas and Farkas have done is unforgivable and Vilkas is left to struggle with his shame. It's not until the boys are sent out on a mission that they are able to come to terms with their desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a ridiculously long time to wait for another chapter, but I wasn't sure at first whether or not I was going to add more to what was supposed to be a one shot. Hopefully this chapter will make up for the long wait. It's over eight thousand words long and has lots of smut. I even had to cut the chapter because it was getting so long.

     Three days. Three days since Farkas and Vilkas had stumbled upon their mutual feelings. Three days since they had lay together. Three days…….and Vilkas’ ass still hurt. By the gods it burned! Farkas had made him bleed in his haste. The wolf feared he was still not walking right. It made him paranoid. His shame of what had transpired only adding to his anxiety. He felt like they could all see. He was convinced Skjor was suspicious.  

     The morning after the twins had fucked, Vilkas had walked by the older warrior. He heard Skjor sniff the air in his wake. _Shit! I smell like Farkas and sex!_ A nervous chill ran up the wolf’s spine, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Skjor shake his head and go about his day. Once he was out of sight Vilkas bolted to Farkas’ room. The brothers raided Farkas’ stash of mead and ale opening bottles and even a cask to smother the scent with alcohol. Only after they smelled like slovenly drunkards did they dare to show their faces.

 _Farkas still hasn’t spoken to me since._ Farkas was outright avoiding him. A rift had appeared between the twins, and Vilkas hadn’t the faintest idea how to cross it. His own awkwardness made him shy away from the precipice and avoid his brother in turn.

      “Vilkas!” Aela shouted.   

     The wolf nearly jumped out of his seat. He glowered at the huntress. “What?”

     They were all eating in the main hall. Aela was sitting next to Skjor with an amused smile spread wide on her slender war-painted face. “The chicken is already plucked.”

      Vilkas looked down. He had been mindlessly picking at the chicken quarter leaving a pile of shredded meat on his plate. He scowled at Aela dropping the remains of his food. He pushed back his chair with a screech and wiped his greasy hands on his sides. He glanced at Farkas who was sitting on the other side of the fire from him. They made eye contact, and Vilkas quickly looked away. He grumbled under breath and headed outside.

      Vilkas stepped outside and took a deep breath of the cool midday air. The wolf closed his eyes, and an image of his brother appeared. Farkas on his knees with his lips wrapped around his cock. He felt himself swell at the thought and shook the image from his mind, not for the first time. He spent a good portion of his time outside meditating or helping Ria train in the yard, mainly because Farkas hid within Jorrvaskr. When his brother did appear out onto the patio, Vilkas would go back inside to read or speak with Kodlak. They were never outside together. Never on the same level in Jorrvaskr unless they were sleeping. If they did a job, they were sure to always take someone else as their shield sibling. A week went by with the twins barely acknowledging each other’s existence.

     Worse still were the dreams. Almost nightly Vilkas dreamt of Farkas. Twice the wolf had come in his sleep. A feat he hadn’t dealt with since his youth. Once he woke himself to his own moans. He resorted to rutting against his furs. He swam through images of his twin, and with the soft pelts gliding along him, he easily found release. He growled. Vilkas wasn’t swimming through thoughts of Farkas. He was drowning in them! Not a night went by where he wasn’t tempted to barge into his brother’s room and ride him like a desperate whore.

      The rest of the companions noticed the change in the twins. The whelps knew better than to say anything, but the Circle wouldn’t shut up about it. Aela was ruthless. She kept teasing them every chance she got. Kodlak kept pressing Vilkas to speak with his brother since neither of them wanted to talk to him about what was bothering them. Skjor simply said. “I don’t know what you two are fighting about, but get over it already. Stop acting like pups, and sort it out with fists if need be. Shit's getting annoying.”

      Four more days went by before Kodlak called the twins to his room. The grizzled old warrior asked tiredly. “All right you two, enough is enough. What is going on?”

      Farkas just sat there studying the floor between his feet. Vilkas couldn’t sit still. He felt like a child who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t want to be this close to Farkas. He feared he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Feared that Kodlak could see them stained by their sin. Vilkas was ashamed of what they did even as he yearned for more. He worried that Kodlak could sense that. Or smell it. Gods new he could smell the unease emanating off the twins. _Damn werewolf noses._ He realized he was rapping his fingers on the table. He stopped, and his knee started bouncing.

      Farkas remained silent so finally Vilkas muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “Fair enough.” Kodlak said. “Your business is your own. However, I suggest you two put it behind you on your way to Volthiem.”

      “What?” Farkas questioned.

      “What’s at the towers?” Vilkas asked at the same time.  The twins looked at each other and then quickly away. Vilkas grumbled under his breath, and Farkas returned to memorizing the lines in the floorboards.

      Kodlak studied them, but remained silent about their behavior, choosing to answer their questions instead. “A group of bandits have taken over the towers. They’re demanding tolls from travelers, and murdering those who won’t or can’t pay. I need them dealt with.”

      “Well then send Aela and Skjor.” Vilkas snapped. “Or let me take one of the whelps. Athis perhaps.”

      “I’m asking you and Farkas.” Kodlak asserted.

      “And if I refuse?” Vilkas growled. His words came out with more venom then he had planned, but he’d be damned if he took it back. He didn’t like being pushed into a corner, and he sure as hell didn’t like everyone getting into his problems. It was making him angry. His wolf responded to it. He could feel it rustling just beneath the skin waiting for Vilkas to lose his calm so it could spring forth. He took an extra second to close his eyes and breath as he shoved the wolf back into the depths. He hoped it was fast enough that they didn’t notice. Kodlak had his own problems and Farkas……. At this point Farkas would only make things worse.

      Kodlak went on. “Jarl Balgruff personally asked me to see to the matter. He doesn’t want to send troops that close to Eastmarch for fear that the empire will think him choosing to side with Ulfric. I gave him my word Vilkas, and I’m not going to ask anyone else.” Kodlak took a pause until both the twins were focused on him. “You two can put your squabble aside, or you can tarnish my honor as well as the rest of the companions’.”

      Vilkas glared at Kodlak. He had the utmost respect for the Harbinger, but by the god’s he was livid. His anger got the better of him, and he stood to loom over the old man. He never got a chance to retaliate.

      Farkas pulled at his sleeve surprising him and snapping his attention over to his twin. “C’mon.” Farkas said. “Let’s get this done.”

      “…. Fine.” Vilkas snarled. He followed his brother down the hall. His wolf paced with eager energy waiting for a time to pounce.

      They were on the road less than an hour later. The journey to the Valthiem Towers was tense. The twins barely spoke. When they did it was about how best to handle the bandits, or the weather. It was early in the season. The snows were mostly melted in the tundra, but it still froze most nights. There weren’t a lot of travelers on the roads yet. Vilkas could see why the Jarl wanted the problem dealt with now before trade started up again. They reached the towers shortly before sunset.

      Valthiem Towers was an old keep situated on the border of Whiterun and Eastmarch. One tower squatted between the White River and the road. Another sprouted out of the mountainside on the far bank. A bridge spanned the water connecting the towers a good hundred feet above the river. A small fire was crackling near the entrance to the tower. A Redguard woman stood over it tending to a cooking pot while she scanned the road. She watched the twins with a calculating gaze taking in their clean armor and lack of travel gear. Vilkas studied the towers. There was a large figure walking along the bridge, and two other bandits on the tops of either tower. _Archers most likely._ It was impossible to know how many more bandits were inside. They would have to be careful.

      As the twins neared the fire the Redguard approached them. “Hold it!” She yelled. “This here’s a toll road see? Yer gonna have to hand over two hundred gold if you want to use our road.”

      “Two hundred gold? Road made out of Stalhrim?” Vilkas asked satirically.

      “I don’t think so.” Farkas growled. He was already moving toward the Redguard pulling his giant two-handed sword free from his back. The Redguard drew an iron sword and charged. She was smaller and more agile than Farkas. The Redguard danced around him getting a few swings in, but she was no match for the well trained warrior. He batted her blows aside like swatting at a fly. Her movements were also predictable. She weaved under a swing and popped up in front of Farkas as he brought the blade up over his shoulder and back down. His sword cut through her furs and dug into where her neck met her torso. The heavy blow would have gone deeper into her collar bone had the force not sent her crumpling to the ground.

      During the half minute it took Farkas to fight the bandit, Vilkas had been standing ready by the tower’s entrance. The others inside heard the commotion, and as a Nord rushed out of the tower, the wolf bashed him with his shield. The Nord stumbled back and Vilkas took his head clean from his shoulders before the fool could comprehend what had happened. _Idiot wasn’t even wearing a helmet._ A second Nord rushed out of the tower, jumped over the spasming corpse, and swung wildly at Vilkas. The twins quickly disposed of him.

      The brother’s entered the tower together making sure to guard each other’s backs as they checked every corner for enemies. They stepped out onto a shoddily built wooden stairway, that was precariously slapped onto the side of the tower, where the original stonework had crumbled centuries prior. The man Vilkas had spotted on the bridge earlier was still there. He was wearing full steal plate including a helmet, however, it had ornamental wings that swooped up on either side of the forehead. He freed a menacing orcish battleaxe from his back and waited for the twins to approach. It was a smart tactic as the narrow bridge would force them to cross single file.

      They split up. Farkas barreled into the top of the tower while Vilkas went to meet the man on the bridge. He noted two archers on the far bank, one on the top of the second tower and the other out on the cliffs. They had their bows drawn, but thankfully they didn’t dare loose any arrows with their mate on the bridge. As the wolf neared, all he could see of the man’s features were his deep blue eyes peering out from the helmet.

      The bandit laughed. His voice held a sneer. “Wolf armor? I’ve always wanted to fight a companion. This will be fun.”

      “Not for you.” Vilkas growled as he got close enough for the bandit to attack. Vilkas was at a slight disadvantage since the battleaxe had more reach. He blocked several attacks with his shield, and slowly pushed the bandit further back toward the second tower. The bandit got past the sheild and struck Vilkas along his torso. His armor dented, and he jumped back with a growl. A throbbing pain spread along his right side. “Fuck!”

      Once they were too close to the tower for the archer on top to hit him, Vilkas made his move. The bandit swung low trying to catch Vilkas’ legs. He skipped back then brought his shield up to catch one of the ornamental wings on the helmet. He pulled, jerking the man down. The bandit staggered, and tried to free himself. Vilkas tripped the Nord with his sword. The man yelped and then screamed when he fell off the bridge. His shrieks abruptly stopped as he hit the water below, and his armor pulled him down beneath the surface.

      Vilkas heard someone behind him and spun around to see Farkas running full sprint toward him as the archers loosed arrows. The wolf scrambled into the tower to get out of his brother’s way. Luckily there was no one in the bottom level. They split up again to take care of the archers. Vilkas went up the tower and disposed of a bandit in a dining area. Above that was a half caved in bedroom. He went up to the room and found the archer who was still standing on the wooden overhang on the highest part of the tower. She was a Breton with wild brown locks and an overly exposed lithe frame. She released a series of arrows at him, and he was forced back down the stairs. _Shore’s bones! Bitch, actually knows how to use her bow!_

     He pulled his hunting knife out from his belt, counted to three, and then peered up into the bedroom with his shield covering most of his face. He barely brought his shield up over his head before an arrow buried itself in the wood. The wolf threw his knife and ducked back down the stairs.

      “AHHH! Fuck….iiiing whooore!” The Breton swore.

      The wolf popped up into the room again. The woman was leaning on a support beam holding her abdomen where the knife had sunk itself into her liver. She drew a dagger as Vilkas approached and forced herself into a fighting stance. He could smell the fear pulsing off of her. She hid it well behind a scowl as she panted through clenched crooked teeth. He stopped on the stairs just out of reach and watched her. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there with walnut and silver gazes scrutinizing each other. It ended when her face scrunched up in pain, and she let out a groan. She leaned back onto the post, and sank to the floor.

      The Breton looked past Vilkas and took in the painted hues of the setting sun. She tried and failed to blink back tears. “Make is quick.” She mumbled.

      Vilkas responded with only a nod. He took her dagger from her loose grip and jammed it between her ribs to meet her heart. He gently laid her down. “May Stendarr give you mercy.” He said gruffly.

      A sourness fell over him as she died. He hated it when they gave up. It wasn’t a good death. It was a mercy kill. It spoiled his victory and left him feeling dirty. He went back down to the bedroom starring at nothing. It didn’t help that a part of him had enjoyed it. Basked in her fear and her acceptance of death. He knew it was his wolf leeching into him. His wolf loved it when his prey feared him. When his prey acknowledged his power and accepted the inevitable. _Damn it._ _She wasn’t prey._ The wolf was always tearing bits of his soul and mind away. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of his thoughts were his own. Perhaps they were all his thoughts, and the wolf simply brought out the worst in him. The beast was a part of him after all.

      “Brother.” A gruff tired voice said below.

      Vilkas started and then silently berated himself. Getting lost in his thoughts when he wasn’t certain all the bandits had been dealt with, was an idiotic move. “I’m up here.” Vilkas replied. “They all dead out there?”

      “Aye. You alright?” Farkas asked.

      “Aye.”

      Vilkas heard Farkas rummaging around the dining area. Now that the adrenalin was gone, he felt dead tired. He pulled off his helmet and shivered as the cool air touched his sweaty face and neck. He could feel his hair squished down on his scalp and sticking to his face. He unbelted his sword and leaned it against a wall. He let his shield slip from his arm falling to the ground with a thunk. The wolf planted himself on the floor with a wince. That damned orcish battleaxe hadn’t just dented his armor. It had managed to cut into it. Thankfully it didn’t make it through the padding beneath, but it still hurt like hell.

      Farkas emerged from below looking like a god of vengeance. His tall heavy build was even more mountainous from Vilkas’ seat on the floor. His helmet was tucked under an arm, and his hair was pasted to the sides of his neck. His sharp jaw set and glistening with sweat. His grey eyes deadlier than steel. The black war paint around his eyes was smeared down his face like black blood. His pure masculine frame only grew larger as he approached Vilkas. Even the way he walked emanated power and self-assurance. Vilkas was both highly aroused and slightly intimidated. Farkas gave him a smug grin. Even that was menacing.

      “Here.” Farkas said.

      It was then that Vilkas realized his brother was holding two bottles of mead in his giant paw like hands. Only after he was grabbing the bottle offered to him did he see all the blood streaming down Farkas’ left arm. The mead slipped out of the wolf’s fingers as he grabbed Farkas by the wrist.

      “You’re hurt.” Vilkas stated.

     “Just a scratch.”

     “That’s a lot of blood for a scratch.” Vilkas replied tersely. He rose to his feet and grimaced as the dent in his armor pressed against his stomach. He had no doubt a large bruise was forming.

     “You’re hurt too.” Farkas accused.

     “I’m not bleeding.” Vilkas retorted. “There’s bound to be a health potion around here somewhere. Wait here”

      Vilkas went downstairs to hunt for supplies to clean the wound. He found two buckets of clean water, and tucked in a corner behind several bottles of skooma was a health potion. He returned upstairs. Farkas was digging around the nightstand by the bed.

     “Find anything useful?” Vilkas asked.

     “Only if you count Dibellian oil as useful.” Farkas mused as he set a half empty bottle down on the stand.

     Vilkas’ felt his face flush as impure thoughts of him and Farkas rose to the surface. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. He hoped his brother didn’t notice. The wolf’s husky voice betrayed him. “Let’s get a look at that wound.”

     The wolf helped his brother out of his cuirass despite Farkas’ protests and sat him on the bed. He gave his twin the health potion, and Farkas chugged it with a grimace. He chased it down with the rest of his mead. Vilkas shredded a shirt he unearthed in a drawer and dipped a strip of it in a bucket. Farkas didn’t object as Vilkas squatted in front of him and carefully cleaned his brother’s wound. A long gash started just above his elbow and cut across the sensitive skin in the crook of his arm before stopping on his forearm. Luckily it wasn’t deep.

     As Vilkas cleaned all the blood off his twin, he couldn’t help but feel the solid muscles beneath the surface. He was kneeling in front of Farkas. His brother’s knee was between his legs and it brushed against his lower thigh. Vilkas could smell his own arousal. It was like a cloud around him. He struggled to ignore his rock hard member as it strained achingly against his pants. Once he finished cleaning the wound, he carefully wrapped it with the remaining cloth. He was securing the end of the wrap when Farkas’ leather infused musk started to give off a tangy lust. The change was sudden, and Vilkas guessed that his brother had picked up his scent. He groaned and dropped his head onto Farkas’ knee. _Gods, I want him so much._

     “You ok?” Farkas asked concerned.

      He laid a hand over Vilkas’ head and the wolf sighed. It was such an innocent and caring gesture. How long had it been since they simply touched? Vilkas hadn’t realized how much he needed that. How much he missed it. Farkas combed his fingers through the wolf’s hair, and then his hand settled on his neck. His thumb dug circles into the skin relieving some of the tension there.

     Vilkas knew the longer he was silent the more worried his brother would become, but he didn’t want this moment to end. He didn’t want to break the contact. The wolf breathed deep basking in the aroma of their mutual desires. It took more effort that he thought to lift his head and shatter the repose.

     “I’m alright brother.” Vilkas wheezed past the stone in his throat. Farkas’ eyes were bright with longing; It made Vilkas’ heart race. Farkas poked his tongue out between his lips and wet them drawing the wolf’s attention _. Gods I want those lips again_. _To taste him. To feel his stubble scratching against my face._ Farkas ran his hand down to cup his jaw, and the wolf leaned into it even as guilt washed over him. He was so hard that it was painful.

     “Vilkas.” Farkas breathed hoarsely. The wolf’s name sounded almost like a moan on his brother’s lips and the raw desire in Farkas’ deep voice set him off.

     Vilkas clambered onto Farkas’ lap straddling him as he seized those cracked soft lips. Farkas wrapped his arms around Vilkas and pulled him against his chest. Vilkas yanked off his gauntlets tossing them blindly. He ran his hands over Farkas’ broad back, his shoulders, his neck, any skin he could reach. His fingers tingled as he traced those rippling muscles. Farkas pressed his tongue against Vilkas' lips demanding a deeper kiss. He lightly bit his brother’s lip when Vilkas didn’t immediately respond. The wolf moaned and gave in to his brother. Farkas tasted like sweet mead and bitter potion. Their tongues danced together, and Vilkas savored the feel of soft warm flesh gliding along each other. Farkas began pulling at the clasps and ties of Vilkas’ armor. He broke the kiss to nibble at the wolf’s jaw and suck on his neck.

     “Oh fuck!” Vilkas cried as he rutted against his brother’s lap. He was sure Farkas was equally hard, but the leather and fabric of their pants along with the faulds of his armor kept him from feeling anything. All he could focus on was his cock demanding to be free from this armor that was suddenly stifling hot and in the gods damn way!

     Farkas broke all contact as the last piece of steal came free, and he pulled the padding beneath up over Vilkas’ head. The cold air blasted the wolf’s back and slapped him into reality. His pounding heart and puffing chest constricted and ached. Farkas tried to pull him back into his arms. Vilkas pushed him away.

     “Stop. Stop. Stop.” He gasped as he rolled off Farkas’ lap. Vilkas laid on the bed with an arm over his face as he tried to calm himself. His guilt was crushing. His fear all consuming. He was too ashamed to look at Farkas. He still answered the unspoken question that hung in the air. “I can’t put you in danger again.”

     “Were in danger every time we fight.” Farkas said.

     Vilkas marveled at how calm his brother was. Farkas was so certain and uncaring. He doubted Farkas understood how wrong this situation was, or how dangerous it could be. “That’s different. I’m not the one fighting you.”

     Farkas pulled Vilkas’ arm away from his face and leaned over him. “What are you afraid of?”

     Vilkas wanted to lie and tell Farkas he wasn’t afraid even as his scent betrayed him. He wanted to keep Farkas free from the burdens of their sin. Instead he answered truthfully. “If I force you into this, and then something happens to you...”

     He was cut off by a rumbling chuckle deep in Farkas’ chest. “You haven’t forced me into anything.”

     “Farkas, if I hadn’t followed you into your room. If I hadn’t admitted nnnngghhhhh……” Vilkas whined as Farkas took a handful of his hair and pulled exposing his throat to his twin’s waiting lips.

     Farkas ran his tongue across the wolf’s neck. Vilkas shivered. His brother’s teeth lightly scraped across his pulse. He occasionally nibbled on it as he spoke. His voice was dripping with desire. “Are you forcing me to do this?”

     “N…. No.” Vilkas admitted. Farkas rewarded him by sucking on his pulse. He moaned again loud enough to fill the tower. His awareness compressed down to Farkas. All he could focus on were the pleasures Farkas was creating, and the noises he was extracting. Vilkas wasn’t even sure what part of his brother’s skin he was currently digging his fingers into. Not that he cared, so long as Farkas didn’t stop touching him. He begged, though he hadn’t a clue what he was asking for. “Farkas please.”

     Farkas continued to suck his throat and chuckled. He felt his brother’s lips curve up into a smirk. When he spoke, it was deep and dark, almost sinister. “Begging now. I thought you were forcing me.”

     Vilkas’ voice hitched in his throat as he muttered some kind of reply. _What were we talking about?_ He pushed the thought away. He no longer cared. He just wanted more of Farkas. His brother rolled on top of him. He freed his throat to kiss and nibble along his jaw and ear. The skin on his neck pounded along with his pulse and prickled pleasantly. Vilkas whined. He wanted more. His fear and shame dissolving under his brother’s touch. He squirmed under Farkas and whimpered pathetically as he began pulling at his brother’s belt. Farkas pulled his hair harder in warning. Vilkas stopped and Farkas awarded him with a kiss that he took greedily.

     Farkas ran his hands down his brother’s sides taking care to avoid the large, deep red splotch to the right of his bellybutton where the axe had impacted. His hand went around the bruising skin and down to roll over his ass. Another hand glided over his hip and rubbed the solid bulge in his leathers. Vilkas tilted his hips up to press into his brother’s hand. _I need these fucking clothes off now!_ Vilkas was desperate for release, but his brother seemed content in his arduously slow torture. The wolf moaned. “Farkas.”

     His brother planted one paw on his chest holding him in place while the other continued to massage his bulge. Farkas made a descending pattern of kisses across his chest and belly as he spoke softly. “Patience. No one will find us here. We have all night.”

     He descended further, kissing Vilkas’ hips, his inner thighs, and then gently pressed his lips on the bulging leathers. Vilkas groaned squeezing his eyes shut as his hands dug into the blankets. Farkas tugged at the ties of Vilkas trousers. Once the knots were free, he pulled the front of the wolf’s pants down. His cock sprang free fully engorged and leaking precum. He fervently waited for Farkas to wrap his lips around him.

     Farkas left him bobbing expectantly in the cold. His breathing faltered. He glanced down confused and frustrated. Farkas continued his decent though he didn’t remove Vilkas’ trousers along the way. He kissed his brother’s inner thighs again and then the side of a knee as he slowly left the bed. He pulled the wolf’s boots off and then left him there. Vilkas groaned annoyed as his cock started to flag in the cold. It was dark now. Only the stars and moons provided light, but it was more than enough. A passing thought noted that it would probably frost over.

     Vilkas watched his brother intently. Farkas yanked off his boots and then walked around the bed to collect the oil off the nightstand. The sight of the oil struck a chord in the wolf as his brother’s intent became starkly clear. He knew they shouldn’t have sex again. He also knew that he wouldn’t back out either. Vilkas wanted this. Needed this. He had willingly leapt into this pot of warming water, and no matter how much it boiled he would never jump out again, so long as Farkas stoked the fire.

     Farkas spoke drawing Vilkas further into his spell. “Come here.”

     The wolf wiggled out of his clothes and scrambled across the bed. He helped Farkas loosen the ties of his trousers to free his own manhood. Vilkas took it in hand and gently began stroking his brother. Farkas groaned as he stepped out of his pants and then ran his hands through the wolf’s mane. Vilkas took his time to admire his brother’s cock. He hadn’t gotten time to appreciate it before. It was only slightly thinner than his own, and a couple inches shorter. It stood straight and true where as Vilkas’ had a slight upward curve to it. Farkas’ head was squatter and fatter. It glistened with precum.

     He leaned forward and licked the underside of his brother’s head, up to the slit, and around. Farkas swore softly, and his cock swelled in his hand. Vilkas licked him again, up and around, before wrapping his lips over the head and drawing his brother into his mouth. He sucked lightly on the tip and softly stroked him. He reached down and cupped his twin’s balls rolling them gently in his fingers. Farkas growled and thrust into his face before he managed to still himself. “Fuck Vilkas. You’re so good.”

     Vilkas drew his brother in further and hummed with pleasure. He withdrew slowly and pumped his brother. He drew him back into his mouth until Farkas was hitting the back of his throat. He was more than happy to torment Farkas with his own slow pace. It served him right. His brother wouldn’t let him. The wolf gasped almost chocking on the cock in his mouth as cold liquid suddenly dripped onto his lower back and slid down his crack. Then Farkas’ fingers were kneading his cheeks and pulling them apart to let the oil slide down to his entrance. One of his brother’s long thick fingers found his center and rubbed around it. Vilkas groaned and worked his twin faster.

     “Turn around.” Farkas ordered.

     Vilkas obeyed releasing his brother. He spun around and planted himself on his elbows. Farkas pulled him closer to the edge of the bed. He massaged and squeezed Vilkas’ ass. The wolf yelped as he felt his brother’s hot tongue run up the underside of his balls to his core. He pressed at his entrance and then disappeared only to retrace his trail from balls to furl. Farkas lapped and pushed around his core until the muscles relaxed. The tip of his tongue slipped through his entrance and Vilkas whined low in his throat. Vilkas reached down to stroke himself. “Oh, gods Farkas. That feels so fucking good.”

     Farkas leaned over Vilkas, and he moaned again as he felt his brother's throbbing cock rest between his cheeks. He stroked himself harder, and then Farkas’ iron grip was pulling his hand free from his cock. Farkas growled into his ear. “Don’t touch yourself. I don’t want you to come yet.”

     Vilkas snarled frustrated. He wanted Farkas inside him already. But he couldn’t disobey. It left him perplexed. Vilkas was the one that gave orders and shy Farkas obeyed. Yet here they were with their roles reversed. Again. Farkas assured and commanding while Vilkas willingly complied. He knew he enjoyed rough sex, but he never thought that being submitted would be such a turn on. He had relished in it last time when Farkas had shoved him to the floor and took what he wanted.

     His brother applied more oil before one of his fingers started rubbing around Vilkas’ entrance. Farkas pressed his finger in slowly, and then back out to rub him some more. The wolf made a noise between a gasp and a whine as he rolled his hips trying to get his brother to go deeper. Rub. Press. Delve. Release. An eternity went by before Farkas finally added a second finger. Vilkas was gasping for air. Every fiber of his being was alight. “Fuck, Farkas. Please fuck me!”

     “Soon. I wasn’t good to you last time. I don't want to hurt you again.” Farkas' voice was strained and hot. He made sure his fingers were sliding into him smoothly before a third was added.

     The wolf wondered for a moment if that’s why Farkas had been avoiding him this whole time. Because he had dry fucked Vilkas and made him bleed. The thought melted away as Farkas drove his thick digits into him faster. Vilkas cried out. “Oh gods!’

     His brother extracted his fingers and then the wolf felt it. Farkas’ glorious cock slick with oil and precum pushing against his furl. Farkas clamped onto Vilkas' hip steadying him as he slowly pressed into that tight heat. Vilkas moaned as his furl latched onto his brother’s head. Farkas didn’t move as the ring of muscles squeezed and relaxed. Once his entance gave in, his twin pulled out just a fraction and sank back in. He delved a little further each time as Vilkas opened up to him.

     The wolf was sucking in desperate gulps of air. The heat of his brother’s cock, the feeling of it sliding along his walls, and the pressure it was building was too much. His hand reached for his own member. He squeezed his eyes shut and stopped himself from touching it. Farkas growled and swore as he fully sheathed himself. Vilkas was so damn close to coming it was painful. He knew that if Farkas hadn’t paused he would’ve already spilled himself all over the blankets. Farkas waited until his furl stopped clenching around his cock before he pulled out and drove back in. His fingers dug into Vilkas’ hips. He built up a steady rhythm as he glided in and out of his brother’s hole. Farkas groaned. It sounded desperate. He growled through his teeth. “Vilkas you feel so good. So tight.”

     Vilkas cried out at the sound of his name on his brother's lips. He grabbed his cock. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He got a few strokes in before Farkas stopped him. He pulled Vilkas up against him wrapping one arm around his sternum as he drove deep into his core. His arm pressed lightly against his bruise. It sent a jolt of pain through Vilkas that was quickly followed by a surge of pleasure. The wolf whimpered. His brother's reached up to lightly grasp Vilkas’ throat.

      “I told you not to touch yourself.” He snarled as he pinched his fingers into his neck.

     Vilkas barely heard him through the rushing in his ears. It was supposed to be a warning, but the restricted air flow only fueled his fire. He sputtered. “Oh gods. Harder!”

     “Is that how you like it?’ Farkas breathed into his ear.

     Vilkas couldn’t answer. His mind was a muddled mess as that velvety hard cock pushed and slid along that spot inside him that was so tantalizing sweet. Farkas holding him tightly and fucking him roughly mixed with the limited air sent Vilkas stumbling over the edge. He came hard shooting his seed over the blankets.

     “Fuck!” Farkas shouted as his core latch onto his cock and spasmed around it. His thrusts intensified slamming into Vilkas as his brother chased his release. The wolf cried out as his sensitive cock waved in the cold air. His vision was narrowing and spots flashed in the tunnel. Farkas unconsciously squeezed Vilkas tighter as his orgasm took him. His fingers clenched around his throat cutting off his air completely. Farkas emptied himself deep inside his core. His thrusts slowed as he milked himself and then stopped completely with a shiver. Vilkas tapped on the arm whose hand was still digging into his windpipe.

     “Oh shit.” Farkas swore as he released Vilkas.

     The wolf gasped and collapsed onto the bed. He whimpered as Farkas’ cock slipped out of him on the way down. He thought he could hear Farkas apologizing, but his mind was still swirling. He was sure he blacked out for a moment for suddenly Farkas was wiping him down. The coolness of the damp rag felt nice on his furl which was now winking with an angry heat.

     “Vilkas?” Farkas said distressed. “Are you okay?”

     The bed sank as Farkas crawled onto it. He rubbed Vilkas’ back and rested his head on his shoulder. Vilkas rolled onto his side and scooted toward his brother. He said sleepily. “Keep fucking me like that and I will be. “

     Farkas chuckled. He cuddled up to him and ran a finger in idle patterns across his abs and chest. He blanketed Vilkas’ shoulder with little kisses. He whispered softly. “I love seeing you like this.”

     “Like what?” Vilkas asked.

     “Relaxed. Happy.”

     Vilkas heard the reply, but he didn’t register it for he was already asleep.

 

 

 

 

     Vilkas kept his eyes clamped shut in the hope that maybe he could drift back to sleep. He knew it was a false hope, but he tried none the less. He hadn’t had a full night sleep since he gained his beast blood ten years ago. It was part of the curse that the entire Circle struggled with though Vilkas appeared to suffer with it more than the rest. His beast blood seemed so much more restless and wild than the others. His wolf was a constant battle for control. It pulled at him every moment of his waking mind. Even now he could feel it shifting and nipping at him. He could easily let go and the wolf would devour him. Force him to shift to his beast form to run, hunt, and be free. _Why do I alone struggle with my wolf?_

     He gave up trying to fall back asleep. Instead he starred out past his feet to gaze at the starry night. The tower’s roof had collapsed long ago. A slanted makeshift one had been set up in its place, but it only covered the sleeping area. The other half of the room was exposed.

     The brothers had rolled in their sleep so Farkas’ immense back was to Vilkas. He carefully slid his arm out from under his brother’s head. Farkas shifted and then started snoring louder than he had been. Vilkas pulled his hand to his chest while working blood back to his tingling fingers. His other arm was still draped around his brother. He began caressing Farkas’ stomach that was only slightly less defined in his relaxed sleep. _Gods if only I had his body……._ He started dwelling on the sex they had had a few hours prior.

     He was once again awash with exhilaration and shame. _It’s my fucking youth all over again._ He thought about the first time Tilma had caught him jerking himself. She had torn off her slipper and beat him with it. She said it would make him go blind. That touching himself was a sure way to Oblivion. Honorable Companions didn’t touch themselves. Once she had finished her lecture, she had pulled him by the ear to scrub out pots and pans in the kitchen. She said if he had energy to be vile then he had energy to clean!

 _Here I am not blind and damned to Oblivion anyway_. Not a single threat or beating ever kept him from masturbating. It just made him craftier, and also guilty every time he finished. The wolf knew that this new relationship with Farkas would be the same, except they could never get caught. They were risking a lot, but it felt like more than simple physical release. He loved his brother and loved sharing all of himself with him. He could relax around Farkas. He wondered if his twin felt the same.

     Vilkas huffed at himself. Thinking about his brother had gotten him aroused again. It didn’t help that the twins were still nude. His swelling cock was pressed firmly up along his brother’s crack. Vilkas slowly moved his hips gliding himself up along his brother’s cheeks. The soft flesh sent a pulse of pleasure through him. He didn’t want to wake up Farkas, but he didn’t want to stop. Instead he pressed himself even closer to his twin.

     The wolf hadn’t had his brother yet. He tried to imagine how Farkas would take his cock. He didn’t even know if Farkas would want to be taken. It didn’t seem like it had ever occurred to Farkas that that was an option.

     “You’re hopeless.” Farkas grumbled with a yawn.

      Vilkas smiled and planted a kiss on his brother’s back. “I would say insatiable.”

     “What does that mean?”

     “It means that I can’t get enough of you. That no matter how many times we do this I’ll always want more.” Vilkas paused to push himself up and nip at Farkas’ earlobe. “Besides I was thinking this time I could please you instead.”

     The wolf felt Farkas go tense. When he didn’t reply Vilkas pulled away and asked. “Brother? Do you want me to stop?”

     Farkas was hesitant. “No. It’s just…I've never…...”

     Vilkas leaned up on an elbow to pier over his brother’s shoulder. “Farkas……...Have you never slept with a man before?”

     The wolf knew his brother hadn’t been a virgin, but he hadn’t stopped to consider that Farkas might not have been as willing to experiment as he. _Gods what have I drug him into?_

     “Oh, plenty of times. I’ve just never......done it like that.” Farkas responded bashfully.

 _Good. Wait! what?_ “Plenty? How many lovers have you had?” Vilkas cringed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

     Farkas just shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know. Never kept count.”

     “You can’t count them in your head?” Vilkas stuttered. He didn’t want this conversation to continue, but he struggled to accept that Farkas had far more experience than him. He couldn’t keep his damn thoughts in.

     “Twelve. I guess. Probably more.” Farkas said unphased. “I was drunk a few times too, so I don’t really remember.”

     Vilkas’ jaw dropped. He felt like he had just been punched in the face. He fumbled to say something. Anything. Instead he clamped him mouth shut and rolled over. He didn’t want to continue the conversation let alone think about Farkas with others. _So what if Farkas has had more lovers than me? It’s not a competition. I’m not jealous!_ Farkas leaned up against Vilkas and rested his hand on the wolf’s softening member. Vilkas could feel his brother’s hard cock pressing against his legs.

     “I’m sorry that put you off.” Farkas said.

     “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Vilkas grumbled.

     Farkas lightly stroked Vilkas’ cock as he breathed hot and heavy on his neck. “Too bad. Cause I really wanted to fuck you again.”

     Vilkas manhood rose from the dead. “Please, yes.”

     Farkas pulled him onto his back and settled himself on top of Vilkas. “Good. Cause this time I want to watch you come.”

     Vilkas moaned and his brother leaned down to capture his lips. The wolf drank him in. Farkas growled and held him roughly. Possessively. He moved his knees forcing Vilkas to open his legs so he could nestle between them. He moaned as Farkas’ hard cock slid along his. Farkas grasped both their members in one of his giant hands and began stroking. It was an odd feeling to have another cock pressed against his own. Farkas worked them together. Vilkas moaned and swelled even more as Farkas’ heat and velvety skin pressed against him.

     The wolf reached up and ran his hands through Farkas’ dark locks. He pulled his brother back down seeking his lips once more. They stayed like for some time. Locked together intimately. Savoring the diminishing time they had together. When their lips finally pulled apart Vilkas’ heart was racing. Farkas’ eyes glowed silver in the starlight. Vilkas couldn’t help but marvel at his brother. He wondered if it was narcissistic of him to be enraptured by the face that looked so much like his own. But it wasn’t his. Farkas’ nose was a little wider. His jaw more defined and his chin softer. His brows thicker along with the crease between them whenever he gazed at something intently. All he could see was Farkas.

     His brother stopped stroking them and kissed Vilkas’ forehead before he crawled out of the bed. Vilkas shivered in the cold. Without his twin’s heat the room was downright freezing. The wolf could see his breath. He watched Farkas root around the floor. Vilkas whined.

     Farkas snickered. “So impatient.”

     He returned to the bed with the bottle of oil. Farkas was quick to spread Vilkas' legs and apply oil to his fingers before rubbing his core. Vilkas groaned and scrunched his eyes shut. The oil was freezing and he was still a little sore from earlier. Farkas pushed one of his thick digits into his entrance and twisted it around inside him. Vilkas let out a wail that sounded thunderous in the still night. Farkas quickly added a second. 

     “Look at me.” Farkas ordered.

     Vilkas obeyed. Farkas' silver gaze captured him. His brother's mouth was open slightly and his quick breathing was a gale. Farkas poured some of the dwindling oil onto Vilkas’ member.

     “Ahhhh fuck Farkas.” The wolf yelped as the cold oil ran down his tip. Farkas pulled his fingers free from the wolf’s furl, and the shock of the frigid oil was replaced by those hot fingers. Vilkas cried out again at the sudden changes of temperature across his sensitive tip. Farkas rubbed his head and then around to get his whole cock slick. He was still watching Vilkas watch him. It was more intimate than Vilkas would have guessed. He assumed it was a turn on for Farkas judging by the intense lust in his silver eyes that grew as they watched each other.

     “You’re not gonna come early this time.” Farkas said. Vilkas wasn’t sure if it was a statement, a warning, or a threat.

     Luckily, he didn’t have to reply because Farkas went back to opening up his core. He plunged two fingers into him and Vilkas was moaning too much to speak. He looked at his brother through heavy lids not knowing what to do except lay there and be taken. It was then that he remembered he had hands. Hands that were just balling up the blankets on either side of him. Vilkas reached down and grabbed his cheeks pulling them apart to give his brother easier access. He begged. “Farkas please fuck me again.”

     For once Farkas obliged. He pushed Vilkas’ legs up onto his shoulders, and then he was slathering his cock and Vilkas’ ass with the rest of the oil. They moaned together as Farkas nudged at his furl, and he opened up to engulf his brother's cock. Farkas pulled out a fraction and then delved in a little deeper. Vilkas whimpered. He was more tender than he realized, and his center pulsed and fumed at being impaled again. Farkas seemed to sense it for his thrusts were gentle and slow. He fully hilted himself with a growl. He pulled out and softly delved back in. Eventually the aching pain was replaced by pleasure as his brother’s warm cock massaged his walls.

     “Fuck Farkas. Harder. Fuck me harder.” Vilkas pleaded.

     Farkas lifted Vilkas’ hips with one hand forcing them to tilt upward so he could drive in deeper. His brother pounded into him. His legs smacking against Vilkas' ass while his cock waved in the air and slapped against his stomach. Farkas grabbed the flailing member and began stroking him with fervor. Vilkas was in a euphoria created by his twin. He saw stars as his brother stroked him in time with his thrusts. He still wanted more.

     “Gods Farkas. Please!” He was beyond coherent sentences. Beyond comprehending what he was even saying. Beyong caring if all of Skyrim heard his howling. Vilkas was keenly aware of Farkas leaning over him and gripping his throat again.

     His face was red and he kissed Vilkas roughly. He growled through his clenched teeth. “You like me fucking you?”

     “Oh fuck yes.” Vilkas mewled.

     “You like it when I do this?” Farkas dug his fingers into his neck restricting his air.

     Vilkas moaned. “FuuuuuUUUCK! Yes! I…. I’m gonna....”

     Farkas pumped him faster. Drove into him harder and rubbed against that little packet of nerves inside him. “Come for me.”

     Vilkas came harder than he ever had before. He spilled across his chest, stomach, and dribbled more over Farkas’ hand. His brother quickly leapt after his own orgasm. His whole body taut as he released his seed into Vilkas’ core. Farkas was quick to let go of his throat. The wolf hissed as his brother pulled his cock from his center. His furl pulsed and swelled. He unfolded himself as Farkas leaned onto his elbows and hovered over him.

     His eyes danced fully satisfied with himself as he grinned at Vilkas. He scooted downward and proceeded to lick all of Vilkas’ cum from his stomach. “Your gross.” Vilkas said playfully.

     Once he was done, Farkas held his jaw and kissed Vilkas hungrily. “and you smell.” He retorted.

     Farkas fell onto the bed next to Vilkas exposing him more to the freezing night. The cold air felt nice on his tender and abused entrance. He could feel Farkas' cum sliding out of him. “We really should clean ourselves.” He said.

     “It’s not our bed. Besides we’re gonna have to wash in the morning anyway.” Farkas replied as he pulled the blankets out from under them and tucked them in. Vilkas agreed and burrowed himself further into the blankets. His wolf was quiet once more, and sleep easily found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good and bad news. I had an unexpected job opportunity fall into my lap, and it's been sucking away what little free time I have. So more than likely these long waits for new chapters will probably be the norm. Have mercy and no slinging spells please. I should have the next chapter out very soon.


	3. The New Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Farkas have settled into their new relationship, but Vilkas can't rest. His wolf is eating away at his mind leaving him angry and fearful. Meanwhile a man has asked to join the Companions and Vilkas is not impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had posted this chapter a couple days ago, but then deleted it as I was not happy with it. I feel like I had strayed from my original view of Farkas' and had to rework the chapter to bring it back. I also tried to expand a little on the relationships between the Companions. I feel like they should be an extended family, but they don't really seem to care about each other much in the game. Also there's no real smut this chapter other than Vilkas having some alone time.

     Vilkas weaved around his brother’s blade as it slashed through the air a breath away from his shoulder. He grinned dipping under another blow and rapping his brother on the legs. Farkas swore. The wolf taunted him through heavy breaths. “You’re getting slow brother. Tired already?”

     Farkas glowered at him. His broad chest swelled with every haggard breath. His silver eyes were penetrating. His muscles shone in the daylight under a sheen of sweat. He rolled his massive shoulders as he paced, walking off the pain. It took all of Vilkas’ willpower not to openly admire his brother. They did have an audience after all. He couldn’t help but be excited at the sight before him. Farkas was the embodiment of strength and courage. Shor himself would be cautious to challenge his brother to a fight. _Gods I love seeing him like this. Confident. Deadly. POWERFUL. SEXY!_ And it was all directed at him. Vilkas wanted nothing more than to run up to his brother and ride him right there in the yard. Their nights in the underforge came to mind. 

The carved out cave under the Skyforge had poor ventilation and reeked of decades worth of smells. Blood, sex, sweat, earth, metal, leather, and the musk of Companions from long past. The stench of werewolf was strong enough that even normal man and mer could detect it though they often said it smelt of wet dog. It was perfect so long as they kept their moments few so as not to overpower the other scents. Vilkas accepted that. Though he still wanted to have Farkas every time he saw him, he was willing to wait. His lust didn’t feel so wrong anymore, and he found himself not craving Farkas so fiercely now that this unreachable affair had been obtained. _Damn it! Focus!_

     His twin seemed to sense the wolf’s distraction and charged with a flurry of blows. Vilkas back peddled parrying the strikes and bidding his time. The brothers had sparred all their lives and Vilkas knew every step and swing his brother would make. Farkas swung his dulled blade and the wolf deflected it to the side before his own practice sword slammed into his twin’s back.

     “Ahh, Fuck!” Farkas shouted. He pounced with a growl trying to catch Vilkas. The wolf had already moved on. He side stepped as Farkas turned, and the wolf punched him in the face.

     “Predictable as always.” Vilkas grinned smugly.

     His brother swung with a roar. Vilkas barely dodged the blow that surley would have broken a few ribs. Vilkas dug his fist into Farkas’ stomach shoving all the air from his brother’s lungs. Farkas doubled over and the wolf slammed his sword into his twin’s back sending him crashing to the ground. He lay there stunned and gasping for air. He rolled onto his back with a groan. Vilkas pressed his sword to his neck the tip digging slightly into his pulse point. The wolf’s silver gaze held a hint of lust as he leered down at him. “I win.”

     Farkas growled. “If it were real blades I would have killed you twice over.”

     Vilkas was helping Farkas off the ground when Skjor came out from Jorrvaskr with Njada Stonearm in tow. The Redguard was a fierce fighter and a terrible bitch. Vilkas liker her. The rest of the whelps didn’t much care for her, but then again, the whelps didn’t much care for him either. Njada was limping behind Skjor. Her right calf was bleeding through a lick layer of bandages.

      Skjor barked at the brothers. “You’re supposed to be teaching these whelps how to fight, not showing off.”

     Skjor approached them and Vilkas nodded at the Redguard. “What’d she do?”

     “Njada decided to take on a whole pack of wolves by herself. Luckily, they were right outside the city, and the guards came to her rescue.” Skjor gave Vilkas a pat on the back with an amused smile on the old warrior’s thin lips. “At least she didn’t try to take on a camp full of giants like some other whelps I knew.”

     Vilkas rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

     “Never.”

     “We were twelve and stupid.” Vilkas retorted.

     “And only one thing’s changed. Songs will be sung of your valiant and desperate retreat.” Skjor’s laugh was always raspy and short. If a waterfall could laugh, Vilkas was sure it would sound like Skjor.

     Athis, and Ria were sitting at one of the tables while watching the brothers spar. Torvar was there as well, but he was busy nursing another hangover. Athis spoke up, the Dark Elf’s red eyes glinted like rubies. “I want to hear this. You tried to kill giants when you were twelve?”

     Skjor laughed again. “The twins haven’t told you? They snuck out one early morning and scampered off to Bleakwind Basin. Farkas, why did you two sneak out?”

     Vilkas returned his practice sword to a rack and grabbed a bottle of ale off the table. The balding Companion wrapped his arm around the wolf’s shoulder an evil grin on his face. Vilkas couldn’t hide his embarrassment as Farkas answered. “Vilkas wanted to pet a mammoth.”

     The whelps burst out laughing and Vilkas sneered at Skjor shoving the man away. “Like I said, we were twelve and stupid.”

     Skjor continued with a teasing tone. “We found them several hours later running for their lives with a hoard of giants on their tails. You should have seen the panic on Vilkas’ face as Farkas out ran him.”

     Farkas beamed. “Big bad wolf used to be a scaredy cat.”

     Vilkas turned on them. “It wasn’t a hoard of giants. It was TWO! And they wouldn't have found us if Farkas’ dumb ass didn’t try to stand on a branch that couldn’t support his FAT ASS WEIGHT!”

     The mirth died. Farkas' playful smile shifted to frown hurt by the insult. Skjor started to say something, but Vilkas stalked away. Guilt settled in his stomach as he left the yard. He made his way to the city walls where he could rest his elbows on the stone and be alone. He gazed up at the Throat of The World shining like a beacon in the warm spring sun. He let out a frustrated sigh.

     Vilkas was still at war with his wolf. It had been surprisingly docile each time Farkas claimed him, but the beast always returned more unyielding than before. The wolf had always latched on to Vilkas’ temper. Now any little irritation brought rage and battle. It yearned for freedom and gnawed at his willpower. The desire to transform and feed was so strong.

 

     So strong.

 

     Drinking seemed to help slightly, but he dared not get drunk for fear the wolf could easily break through his inebriated mind. The wolf wanted action, blood, and prey. Vilkas meditated, breathed, trained, and sparred, but these normal methods were no longer working.

     An hour or so passed when Skjor came to stand beside the wolf. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

     “I’m fine.” Vilkas muttered.

     “Don’t lie to me.”

    Vilkas chewed on his thoughts before he dropped his voice and said. “I'm losing control. What happens if I turn feral?”

     “That won’t happen.” Skjor affirmed. He didn’t need to ask what Vilkas was speaking of.

     Vilkas waved off his words. “Easy for you to say. You and Aela can control yourselves. You revel in your beast.”

     “Aye I enjoy the gift given to us. I’m sure if you stopped fighting this gift and indulged in it, you wouldn’t be struggling now.”

     “How can I? How can you? Where is the honor in slaughtering people?” Vilkas’ hushed words became a whisper. “How can you stand feeding on them?”

     Skjor was silent for a moment as a Whiterun guard walked the walls. He nodded to the companions and Skjor returned the gesture. The seasoned warrior answered once the guard was far out of earshot. “I have no qualms about killing brigands and bandits, and you, Vilkas, are a trained and hardened warrior. It’s always slaughter when you kill. Don’t forget that these outlaws would gladly steal, rape, and murder for the mere joy of it. They feed off innocence, and I have no qualms feeding on them. Don’t doubt yourself, and if you ever decide to indulge, you're always welcome to join Aela and I on a hunt.”

     Skjor patted Vilkas on the back. He started for Jorrvaskr but paused to say. “Wolf, you can’t tame a beast by denying it its nature. You have to make it beneficial.”

     It was afternoon when Vilkas returned to Jorrvaskr. He sought out his brother with no luck. He asked Skjor. “Where’s Farkas?”

     “He went with Aela and Ria. Apparently, there’s a giant wondering around Pelagius’ farm.”  Skjor replied.

     “Ria shouldn’t have gone. She still plants herself.”

     “Stop worrying. They won’t let her get herself killed.”

     Vilkas grunted in response and entered the living quarters. His skin was still crawling as the wolf continued to taunt him. He needed to speak to Kodlak though he hated bothering the old man with his problems. Kodlak was weak. The rot was clearly draining him more these days. His cheeks had hollowed behind his swirling war paint, and he could no longer walk too far without getting winded. The Harbinger was clearly frustrated with his frail body. It was a terrible affliction to befall a warrior. Vilkas felt for him. He didn’t want to worry the man with his own struggles, but he didn’t know who else to turn to.

He feared what would happen should he transform. He couldn’t give in as Skjor suggested. As the years have gone on his beast blood had grown stronger. More often than not he would have gaps in his memory. He would wake up in the wilds not knowing how long he had been as a werewolf or what he had done. He could have killed dozens with no recollection of it. No way of knowing if he had butchered innocence in that time. Skjor had shrugged it off, but Vilkas feared he truly was turning feral.

     “Enter.” Kodlak said after Vilkas rapped on the door to the Harbingers study. The old man gave him a worn smile as the wolf entered. “Ah Vilkas. Come in. I was wanting to speak with you.”

     Kodlak sat at a small table at the far corner of the large study. He had a book in his hand, but set it down as Vilkas took a seat across from him.

     “What about?” Vilkas asked. The Harbinger studied him with his calculating steal gaze. His body might be failing, but the man’s mind was sharper than ever.

     “You haven’t been sleeping.” Kodlak proclaimed.

     “Is it that obvious?”

     “It is to me. What troubles you?”

     Vilkas leaned forward resting his arms on his knees. “My wolf. What else? I haven’t transformed in almost two years, but I still hear the call of the blood.”

     “We all do. It is our burden to bear, but we can overcome.”

     “But I can’t!” Vilkas barked. He stood from his chair no longer able to sit still. He paced while he ranted.  “No matter what I do, it won’t stop trying to break free. Even now the desire to change is unbearable.”

     “Relax.” Kodlak murmured. “Focus on your breathing.”

     “I have been breathing!” Vilkas snapped. “That’s all I’ve been doing is breathing and meditating and fucking training! It doesn’t work! Nothing works! I want to turn and tear everyone to pieces!”

     “Shhhhh. Vilkas look at me. You are stronger than any beast. Far stronger than a mere wolf. It won't consume you.”

     Kodlak’s soothing tone brought Vilkas back to himself. He hurriedly sat back down and clutched his knees while he tried to calm his pounding heart. _I was just growling at Kodlak!_ Literally snarling at the old man with his lip twitching upward to reveal canines that were now throbbing painfully. _Shore’s bones! Did I really almost transform without trying? And with the door open for all to see? It’s not supposed to be like this!_

     “Everyone else can control their wolf. You only change when you call on the beast blood. Why can’t I?” Vilkas challenged. He was expecting the Harbinger to look at him with worry or pity. Instead Kodlak just starred at his book with remorse.

     “I should never have allowed you boys to be turned.” Kodlak said anguished.

     “You have no blame. I made my choice willingly, and you’re not my forbearer.”

     “I wonder if I should have been. You’ve always had a hot temper, and so did Arnbjorn. I should have seen this coming.” Kodlak insisted. “The wolf feeds off your fire, Vilkas. You tend to be more irritable when you’re idle, and you need strength to transform. Meditating is probably the opposite of what you need.”

     “You’re saying I should fight more?”

     “I’m saying you need to exert yourself. Tell me, when is it easiest to control your wolf?”

     “When I’m uhm.” Vilkas cleared his throat and held his fist to his face hoping to hide a blush that he couldn’t stave off. He immediately thought of Farkas and hurriedly buried the thought. “After I’ve bedded a lass.”

     It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. His wolf was quieter after sex, but no one had completely staved it off like Farkas did. Kodlak chuckled and it brought back some needed warmth to his pale skin. His laughing eyes barely visible behind merry made wrinkles. “Well then problem solved. Go down to the Bannered Mare, have some fun, and wear yourself out. If you can’t find a woman you can always run around the walls until you collapse. Or we can dunk you in the spring. Maybe that will cool your temper.”

     “I’m glad you find amusement in this old man.” Vilkas grumbled. “Now if you’re done. Why did you want to talk to me?”

     “Fret all you want wolf, but I was being serious.” Kodlak stroked his long white beard. “I’m close to finding a cure. The Glenmoril Witches created this pack, and they can undo it. I’m certain of it.”

     “How does that help? The ancient Companions killed them all after they discovered their deception.”  

     “I believe that some survived. I have no solid proof, but I found a rumor that the forsworn had sheltered some of them.”

     “And where did this rumor come from?”

     “Typical hear say, from the Reach, but I believe it to be true. I will find them wolf, and when I do, I will free myself of this curse. Free us all. Can I count on you to join me?”

     “You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don’t know if the rest will go along quite so easily.”

     “Leave that to me.” Kodlak said.

     Vilkas stayed for a while enjoying the quiet of the study while he mulled over Kodlak’s advice. He wasn’t sure the old man's idea would work, but he was desperate enough to try. Kodlak broke the silence. “A stranger comes to our hall.”

     Vilkas glanced up to see a Breton strutting down the hallway towards them. He was tall for a Breton, and his studded armor was well worn and dirty from travel. It hung on his shoulders slightly too big for him. Oddly, the man wore a fur scarf wrapped like a hood. Two short swords were strapped to his waist. The Breton didn’t bother to stop at the door. He smiled happily at Vilkas and strode right up to them. The wolf glowered at the man. The Breton’s smile faltered, much to Vilkas’ satisfaction, but the man turned to Kodlak unperturbed. The wolf noted that the Breton’s eyes were two different colors. His right was green while his left was hazel with specks of gold.

     “I would like to join the companions.” Said the Breton. His light voice carried through the room. It was a voice used to being heard.

     Vilkas drowned the voice with a deep roaring laughter. The Breton recoiled clearly offended. The man was athletic to be sure, but his corded muscles only looked large because they were attached to his thin frame. _He’s the size of my leg!_ Vilkas only stopped his chortling when his side started aching. “You think you can be a companion?”

     The Breton starred at Vilkas as if he had sprouted antlers. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. The man’s arm was covered with a flowing red tattoo reminiscent of waves that swirled from knuckles to shoulder. His voice held a note of disbelief. “You TOLD me to join.”

     Vilkas started laughing again, but Kodlak silenced him. “You dishonor yourself.” He then said to the Breton. “I am Kodlak Whitemane. This is Vilkas. What’s your name boy?”

     He answered Kodlak while still watching Vilkas suspiciously. “Bran, uh, Master.”

     “I’m no one’s master. Here, let me have a look at you.”

     Bran stepped closer to the Harbinger and unwound his hood. Bran couldn’t have been much older than Ria, and the milk drinker hadn’t a scar on him. He was quite tan. He had sandy blonde hair that was far longer on the top where it swept forward and stuck out in a disheveled mess. He had a short unkept beard. Vilkas silently sniffed the air. Bran’s musk smelled like the undergrowth of a forest like moss, fern and soil. Whether that was his natural scent or him just being in the woods recently, Vilkas couldn’t tell.  

     “When’s the last time you’ve had a real meal boy? Or bathed?” Kodlak asked.

     Bran gave the Harbinger a sheepish grin revealing mostly straight white teeth. Bran ran a hand through his hair which only made it spike up in more directions. “Honestly. It’s been a while. I haven’t had an actual meal since I left Cyrodiil. I suppose my last bath was when I took an unplanned dip in some lake thanks to a troll.”

     “Care to elaborate?” Vilkas inquired.

     “Bloody thing charged me. I admit I didn’t expect it to be so fast and it grabbed hold of my shirt and tossed me off a cliff.”

     “And what brought you to Skyrim?’ Kodlak asked.

     “Curiosity mostly. Cyrodiil was too boring, and the people fearful. I wanted excitement. Adventure, however, if I had known this Stormcloak ‘rebellion' was a full-blown civil war I would’ve stayed in Cyrodiil.”

     “You don’t like battle, boy?”

     “It’s not the fighting that bothers me. It’s the bloody politicians behind it.”

     Kodlak combed his fingers through his beard. “Hmm, yes. Perhaps a certain strength of spirit.”

     “You’re not truly considering accepting him?” Vilkas sneered. He eyed the Breton again. “Even if he can fight, he’s clearly not a warrior. Besides I’ve never heard of this outsider.”

     “What matters is their heart.”

     “And their arm.” Vilkas scoffed.

     “Of course. How are you in battle boy?”

     “I can handle myself.” Bran said.

     “That may be so. For now, I welcome you as a guest to these halls. Eat and rest. Vilkas will test your arm in the morning.”

     “Thank you, sir.” Bran said, his whole body sagging with relief. Kodlak excused them both from his study. Bran watched Vilkas curiously like a lynx eyeing a wolf. Even being tall for his race, the Breton barely reached the nord’s collarbone. Bran chewed on his tongue as he looked up at Vilkas. “There were a lot of Nords in Cyrodiil, but you Skyrim Nords are from a different stock.”

      Vilkas huffed and stalked down the hall with the Breton swaggering along beside him. The wolf was relieved to run into Farkas. “Farkas brother. How was the fight?”

     Bran gawked at the twins as they clasped arms and patted each other’s backs. Farkas was beaming with excitement his eyes flashing silver. His face and hair were sweaty, and his scent was strong with pride and triumph. _He’s always so damn hot after battle._

     “You should have been there. It put up a good fight.” Farkas exclaimed. He paused when he noticed Bran. The Breton barely reached the middle of Farkas’ sternum, and he had to crane his neck to look at the giant Nord. Farkas beamed brighter. “You came! Bran, right? You should have seen him fight Vilkas. He came running out of nowhere. He was fast. He ran right under the giant dodging kicks while he sliced with his swords.”

     “This twig helped you kill the giant?” Vilkas questioned.

     “Yeah! He helped us bring it down a lot faster.” Farkas said.

     “Wait! So, you’re the one I spoke to outside the city?” Bran said pointing to Farkas. “Are you twins?”

     “Is that not obvious twiggy?” Vilkas said.

     Bran scowled at the wolf. “Don’t call me twiggy. Though I guess that is a stupid question. You do look exactly the same.”

     Farkas leaned on Vilkas and ruffled his hair. “Nah, Vilkas is prettier.”

     Bran chewed on his tongue; his mischievous lips slightly parted as he eyed the twins. Whatever he was thinking he kept to himself. The wolf shoved Farkas roughly and said. “Farkas, Bran is staying for the night. Why don’t you show him around?”

     Bran smiled warmly at Farkas who blushed and stammered. Vilkas knew how shy Farkas was and thoroughly enjoyed watching him itch. He left them in the hall and he overheard Bran say. “No offense, but your brother is a bit of an arse.”

     Farkas laughed. “Don’t let him get to you. He hates everyone, but if you prove yourself, he’ll respect you.”

     By the end of the day Vilkas regretted leaving Bran with Farkas. The Breton spent all of his time plastered to his twin. Farkas spent most of that time flustered and sputtering over his words, however by the end of the day he was all smiles. Farkas showed Bran everything his silver eyes landed on from the Skyforge to Wuuthrad, and introduced the twig to everyone at least twice. Bran seemed to enjoy the attention. He treated Farkas like a puppy, and Farkas treated him like a new toy. When it was time for supper, they sat beside each other while the Breton told a ridiculous story about escaping a dragon. _As if dragons still exist!_ The only time Bran stopped talking was just long enough to stuff his face, and by the gods could that small man eat! He seemed to enjoy making Farkas flush and spoke to him warmly.

     Vilkas fumed. He raged and scowled as he watched them. Vilkas knew he was jealous, and he hadn’t a right to be. Even if he had, Bran didn’t do anything provocative, and yet everything about him screamed seducer. Those mismatched eyes that scanned everyone like a lynx searching for prey. The way he strutted like a man who knew he was attractive.

Some time before supper the Breton had bathed. He had shaved off his beard as well as the back and sides of his hair. It made him look even younger. He had the diamond shaped face and high cheekbones of an elf with the heavy brows and square chin of a man. His features were soft enough to be almost feminine, and yet hard enough to portray his masculinity. He was too boyish for Vilkas, but he could see how others might be drawn to him. Ria certainly was judging by the way she blushed every time the twig noticed her. Which was rarely. He was focused solely on Farkas, and Vilkas hated it.

     He was grateful Skjor and Aela had dismissed themselves early, and Kodlak had eaten in his study. His scent probably wrapped the whole hall in a covetous fog. Vilkas left once his wolf became dangerous. His jealousy bringing it to the bars in his mind where the beast gnawed them bloody. He tossed and turned unable to sleep at all.

     It was late into the night when there was a soft tap on his door. “Vilkas?” Farkas breathed. “You awake?”

     Vilkas crept out of bed and cracked his door open. He grumbled. “What do you want?”

     “Let me in.”

     The wolf contemplated slamming the door in his brother’s face and telling him to shove off. Part of him was still angry, but the other part was curious. He opened the door and quietly closed it behind Farkas. His brother strode in with a candle, and he set it on the table lighting the room with a warm glow. As soon as his hands were free, Farkas transformed into a being of raw power and desire. It took him two strides to cross the room, and hover over Vilkas. The wolf was already ensnared by him. His hands were on the door on either side of Vilkas’ head, and their faces were almost touching. Farkas wore only a pair of shorts. Vilkas was nude. He was instantly aroused. His heart was already pounding and his mouth dry. Farkas studied every mar and dimple on him before murmuring. “You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”

    Vilkas struggled to find words, but before he could think of any Farkas was stealing his lips. Vilkas grabbed the back of his brother’s neck and pulled himself closer. He savored the feeling of their lips clasped together. He ran his fingers along Farkas’ rigid abs and settled his hand on the patch of hair on his brother’s chest. He pushed Farkas away and rasped. “Have you lost your mind?”

     “I couldn’t wait any longer.” Farkas breathed. “Don’t worry. I won’t do more than that. Not here anyway.”

     “Then what do you want?”   

     “We should sneak out.”

     Vilkas couldn’t stop himself from getting hard as he thought about the last time they were in the underforge. Farkas had him shoved up against the stone basin holding one of his legs up as he thrust into him. The cold stone digging into his ribs had not been pleasant as he leaned over gripping the sides of the bowl. He had ignored it and encouraged Farkas to fuck him harder. Vilkas’ tight furl had become more supple and by the gods it felt so damn amazing every time his brother’s cock slid along it. Farkas could obviously see his swelling member, and his brother rocked his hips causing his own hard cock to slide along his through the fabric. Vilkas choked on a moan and said. “We can’t. It’s only been a few days.”

     “We’ll go somewhere else.”

     Vilkas slumped against the door crossing his arms. “Go where? Skulk behind a house and fuck in a bush?” Farkas replied with a dirty smirk and a gleam in his eye. “Farkas, no. Tomorrow we can find an excuse to go anywhere in Skyrim. We can be gone as long as we want. Until then, go to bed.”

     Farkas looked like he might object, and the selfish part of Vilkas hoped he would. Gods new he wouldn’t have the willpower or desire to stop him if Farkas pressed. The candle light sprawled across the side of Farkas’ face magnifying his features and making him look dark and brooding. Vilkas grew harder at the sight. His brother noticed. Vilkas scowled at him.

     With a dejected sigh, Farkas retrieved his candle. Vilkas stepped away from the door to let his brother pass. Farkas ensnared his lips once more. Vilkas hummed into the kiss. His brother nipped his lip and after a languid gaze he left the room. The wolf let out a quiet groan and blindly found his bed. He crumpled onto it landing on his belly.

     He was happy that Farkas had come to soothe his jealously, but it had been replaced ten-fold with lust. His lips still tingled while his mind replayed their nights together for the hundredth time. With a growl he grasped his cock and stroked himself. He thought of Farkas taking them both in one of his large hands pumping them together. His brother’s cock had been scorching against his and so incredibly soft. Vilkas whined. He popped his free fingers into his mouth wishing it was Farkas’ cock instead. He sucked and slathered them before he curled his knee up and brought those fingers to his core.

     He ran circles around his furl teasing himself like his brother does. He slid a finger in thrusting shallowly before adding a second. His hand on his cock quickened its pace, and Vilkas moaned into his pillow. His muffled words were hushed and frantic. “Fuck me Farkas. Fuck me hard.”

     He thrust up into his hand while he worked his fingers deeper into his core. It felt so good when Farkas clutched him to his chest. How his cock slid along his furl and pressed up inside him. The pressure. The heat. His hands pinning him down. Pulling his hair. Farkas’ fingers clasping his throat. His cock pounding inside him rubbing against that spot! He remembered his brother’s words in Valtheim, heavy and commanding. “ _Come for me.”_  

     Vilkas hurriedly rolled onto his back and came across his stomach. He whined and groaned as he stroked himself until he was too sensitive for it to be pleasurable. His core was still tightly clinging to his fingers, and he hissed as he worked them free. He felt around the floor searching for his linen shirt. Once he found it, he mopped himself up and discarded it back to the floor. He rolled onto his side cradling his pillow. He still wasn’t tired. He WAS still horny. _Damn you Farkas. I’m not going to get any sleep tonight._

     Vilkas clambered out of bed well before dawn. He felt around in the darkness searching for his dresser where he dug up a pair of trousers. He took a moment to stretch reaching for the ceiling and then down to his toes. He lazily made his way to the kitchen where Tilma was struggling to light a fire.

     “You’re up awfully early dear.” She said over her shoulder.

     “How did you know I was here?”

     “I know everything that goes on in these halls.” She stated flashing him her motherly smile. Tilma the Haggard had been old since Vilkas was young, but she was becoming more haggard as of late. Vilkas couldn’t help but worry about her. She was the closest thing Farkas and him had to a mother. He didn’t like picturing a Jorrvaskr without her. He gently took the fire striker from her small wrinkled hands. With a quick flick he sent sparks flying onto the tinder which quickly ignited.

     She thanked him and complained about her rickety bones. Vilkas listened patiently while he did her bidding, and she drabbled on about tidings both new and ancient. Would he fetch the eggs? Could he put on water? That good for nothing Mikael was back to harassing Carlotta. Vilkas promised to handle it. Again. He searched for the salt that was on the counter in front of her. What a sweet dearie he was. Always so helpful. Did he remember that time Farkas saved a cat stuck in the Gildergreen and he had to save Farkas? He did. Surely that hadn’t been twenty years ago already. It was. Would he mind kneading the doe for her? Her arthritic fingers weren’t what they used to be. He would be happy to. She thanked him again. What brave handsome men the twins had grown up to be. “I’m so proud of you boys.”

     Vilkas’ scowling exterior shattered replaced with heart felt gratitude. Her words were a balm on his stressed mind. He enjoyed moments like these. The simple tasks of daily life that were often over looked yet so vital to existence. He savored this time when his wolf was still and the world slept. Vilkas continued to help Tilma start breakfast until Brill awoke and took his place. After which he fetched himself boots and a cloak and sat on the back patio to watch the sunrise.

     It was late morning when the twig finally ventured outside with Farkas in tow. He wore soft leather pants that clung to him with a flowing tunic tucked into his belt. Bran blinked doe eyed in the bright light. Vilkas had already been working with the whelps for hours. Torvar was sitting at the table nursing several welts. Ria was currently standing before Vilkas and Athis desperately trying to dodge all their attacks. She was still trying to plant herself.

     “You ready twiggy?” Vilkas asked. Ria took her chance to lunge at the wolf. Athis was on her in a second rapping his sword across her wrist. She yelped and jumped back. Vilkas gestured them to stop.

     The Breton frowned at him. “Stop calling me twiggy.”

     Vilkas shrugged and strolled toward him. “Suit yourself new blood.” He pointed at a row of racks full of weapons with his sword. “Those are blunted and used for training. Don’t ever let me find a real weapon there.”

     Vilkas grabbed a plain wooden shield that had been leaning against a rack. “The old man said to have a look at you, so let’s do this. Arm yourself.”

     “Why can’t Farkas test me?”

     “I’m the Master of Arms. Farkas isn’t.”

     Bran sized up Vilkas eyeing his sword and shield before he studied the weapons on the rack. He settled on two short swords. He tested the grips and gave them a swing before following Vilkas down to the yard. Everyone else settled down to watch.

     “I want to see your form. I won’t hurt you. Much. But I want you to try to hit me as hard as you can. As far as your concerned this is a real fight, and your life depends on it.” Vilkas said as he bent his knees and readied his sword. Bran looked doubtful. “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

     Bran lowered himself and lifted his swords up in an unfamiliar stance. Vilkas expected the Breton to charge in full zeal like most youthful prospects, but instead Bran simply walked while he watched Vilkas carefully. His green and hazel eyes were locked onto him. Judging. Anticipating. Waiting to see if Vilkas would strike first. The wolf was pleased as he circled in turn. _Good. He’s cautious._ Bran lashed out like a viper. His swords flashed in a series of quick slashes. Each blow scraped along Vilkas’ shield and he scowled at the Breton. The wolf surged forward and the twig skipped back.

     “Don’t aim at my shield. Hit me!” Vilkas shouted. He swung at Bran’s legs and the Breton leapt away swinging a sword up to keep Vilkas at bay. The wolf batted the blow aside with his shield and rapped the twig hard on his back with the flat of his blade. Bran stumbled with a yelp though to his credit he remained on his feet. He whirled around and hissed at Vilkas. The wolf grinned. The Breton kicked a rock up at Vilkas who easily dodged it. Bran was right behind the rock roaring as he slashed at Vilkas. He twirled to the side letting the twig’s moments pull him past before the wolf stuck his foot out and sent the Breton crashing to the ground.

     Bran rolled bouncing back to his feet and slashing his blades around himself. It was obvious he was used to slashing swords like scimitars. Not once had he tried to pierce Vilkas. The wolf had to admit that the man was light on his feet and he was used to fighting outnumbered. He was nimble resorting to speed and agility since he lacked bulk. The Breton gulped up air. Vilkas had barely broken a sweat. “Tired already new blood?”

     “The air. Is thin.” He puffed.

 _Shit._ Vilkas hadn’t considered that Bran might not be acclimated yet. He couldn’t afford to risk the man fainting. _Damn. I was actually having fun._ He asked. “How long have you been in Skyrim?”

     “A few weeks.” Bran panted.

     He lunged at Vilkas slashing quick while he tried to dance around him. Vilkas caught the blows with his shield and parried another that came in from the side. The wolf howled as a blunted blade suddenly smacked his calf and drew across it. He hopped away only nursing the leg for a single step before he parried another blow and slammed his shield into the Breton. Bran was tossed through the air and landed hard on his back. Bran groaned and slowly pulled himself to his knees.

     The whelps gaped at Bran and Ria exclaimed. “I don’t believe it. He got a hit on Vilkas."

     “That’s impressive.” Athis admitted.

     “Pfft. I could take him.” Njada muttered.

     "Vilkas or the new blood?" Athis asked.

     "I'll take them both on, and you too grey skin."

     Vilkas offered Bran his hand and the twig took it once his mind stopped reeling. Vilkas pulled him to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. “Not bad. You might just make it.”


End file.
